


Jane's Apartment

by domini_porter



Series: Scenes from Domestic Life [5]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_porter/pseuds/domini_porter





	Jane's Apartment

"Jane? What is it?"

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, 3:30 a.m. is generally my most productive time."

"Are you joking?" Jane frowned. Usually she could figure out when Maura was trying to be sarcastic, but the lack of body language was making it difficult.

"Yes, Jane," Maura sighed. "What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Jane said quickly. "I couldn't sleep."

"So . . .  _I_ shouldn't sleep either. Is that what you were thinking?"

"No! I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow." Jane moved to end the call, but stopped when she heard Maura's tinny protestations on the other end.

"It's fine, Jane. I was going to get up soon anyway."

"You're so weird."

"I just like to take advantage of as much daylight as I can."

"Maura, it won't even  _be_  daylight for—never mind," Jane sighed.

"Why do you think you can't sleep?"

Jane blushed slightly, her first thought one she was too embarrassed to share.

"I can hear you not answering, Jane," Maura said, yawning.

"I dunno," Jane mumbled. "Work, I guess. Or, Ma is really stressing me out, she keeps 'accidentally' running into me in the hallway, trying to get me to go out with Lonny Rondazzo."

"Who's Lonny Rondazzo?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, you could always just . . . tell her."

There was a pause as Jane rolled her eyes and sighed as she flopped back against her pillows. "She already knows, Maura, she's just doing this to drive me crazy."

"She already knows?" Maura's voice was a mixture of uncertainty and pleasure.

"I mean, yeah, come on, she knew when Tommy tried to fill out his PSAT with a #3 pencil in high school. I swear she called the principal ten minutes before the test, nobody ever figured out how she did it. So she keeps trying to set me up with these loser guys to, I don't know, make me miserable about not picking out china patterns."

"I wouldn't trust you anywhere near china patterns," Maura said. "It'd be like . . . like . . ."

"A bull . . ." Jane prompted.

"A bull? You're not a Taurus."

"In a china shop, Maura! God, you're infuriating."

"Um, Jane, unless I'm mistaken  _I'm_  not the one who calls people at three-thirty in the morning."

Jane sighed again. A smile plucked at the corners of her mouth when she could hear the rustle of Maura's sheets, imagining what Maura looked like just then, her face soft with sleep, hair loose and tangling.

There was a long pause. " _Would_ you tell her?" Maura asked softly.

Jane chewed at her fingernail. "Yeah," she said finally, "I guess. I mean, it's not that I don't  _want_  to tell her, it's just that I don't  _want_  to tell her . . .  _anything,_  really. Because she'll find some way to drive me to a murder-suicide. You know how she is."

"Could  _I_  tell her?"

Jane chewed at her fingernail some more. "I mean yeah, if you want to."

"If she already knows . . ."

"I just don't want her telling everyone at the precinct, you know?"

"I see how it could make both of our professional lives more difficult, yes," Maura said matter-of-factly, assuaging Jane's vague discomfort in the rational way Jane professed to hate. "But I trust Angela, and I think she trusts me not to ask her to keep information as sensitive as this to herself unless it's very important."

"Yeah," Jane said absently.

"Is this upsetting to you?" Maura's voice was laced with concern, and Jane could hear her shifting position.

"No. No, it's not. Just . . . not the direction I was expecting this conversation to go."

"I'd be lying if I said it was what I expected."

"Then I'd have to come over and revive you, huh," Jane said with a soft chuckle.

"You could come over and try it anyway," Maura replied. Her voice was still a little rough from being awakened so abruptly, and Jane shivered involuntarily.

"That would be medically unnecessary, Doctor," she murmured.

"But not medically harmful, and perhaps your demonstration of concern could have additional long-term health benefits."

"Such as?" Jane grinned, stretching out in the bed. She twisted her foot slightly in the sheet, a habit she'd had since she was a child and wanted more than anything to be a trapeze artist.

"Ummm . . ." Maura trailed off. Jane shivered again as she listened to Maura adjust herself in her bed. "It's been shown that performing selfless acts increases positive feelings and reinforces neural connections that lead to performing more selfless acts, resulting in more positive feelings."

"Okay."

"And when you feel good about yourself, your immune system is boosted. Though there are other ways to do that, if you're looking for something a little more short-term."

"Tell me all about it," Jane said. "Or you could come here and show me."

"Then I'd have to get out of bed," Maura yawned again.

"I thought you were getting up in a little while anyway."

"I just said that to be polite, Jane."

"So . . . you lied." She grinned as Maura made soft noises of protests.

"It wasn't a lie! The definition of "a little while" is quite fluid."

"Well, you could come over and not get up for a little while with me," Jane said a little self-consciously, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She was always fighting impulses when talking to Maura—the desire to be with her, the fear of sounding too aggressive, the plain embarrassment of saying exactly what it was she wanted.

"Or you could come here," Maura said. "I have an espresso machine."

"But then I'd have to put on pants," Jane groaned.

She could hear Maura's grin on the other end of the line. "Tell me what else you're not wearing, Detective," Maura purred. Maura, Jane had noticed, seemed to lack a key bashfulness gene. Jane sometimes admired how direct Maura could be, and sometimes it made her want to cringe into another dimension. Tonight, however, the drowsy playfulness in her voice was making Jane quiver.

"I'm not wearing . . ." Jane paused, uncertain of exactly what she should say. "Shoes. I'm not wearing shoes."

"Congratulations, Jane," Maura laughed. "Turning over a new leaf."

"Oh yeah, well, you're probably wearing some . . . fancy . . . thing," she finished lamely.

"Very fancy," Maura replied. "It has pants and everything."

"Well that's a bummer," Jane mumbled.

"All right—hold on-" Jane tried to speak but heard the muffled rustling of Maura setting her phone down, then a moment of indeterminate shuffling. "Okay," Maura said as brightly as possible considering the hour. "No need to be 'bummed up.'"

"It's bummed  _out,_ " Jane said, before she realized what had just happened. "Did you just—uh-" Jane's mouth went dry.

"I thought it might be most convenient if I took the whole thing off," Maura interrupted. "To save a little time."

"Very convenient," Jane mumbled.

"Are you sure you don't want to come over?"

"I . . . uh . . . no?"

"Even though I know what sacrifice you'd be making by putting on pants? Even if I promise I'll take them off you right away?"

"Uh," Jane swallowed hard. "Yes I do want to come over."

"All right."

"But hold on," Jane said quickly before Maura could hang up.

"What is it, Jane?" Maura said, a hint of impatience in her voice. "I'm getting a little chilly like this."

Jane closed her eyes, smiling as she imagined Maura lying naked in her bed, the something fancy she'd just slipped out of puddled on the floor next to her.

"Jane?"

"I'm just—I'm just imagining you, right now," Jane admitted, feeling a little silly. "It's nice."

"Well that's sweet, Jane," Maura said genuinely, and Jane could visualize the way Maura's eyes widened and her smile flashed every time someone paid her a compliment. "I'm imagining you too," she continued, her voice slipping down into her lower register. "It's not very nice, though. Well, it's nice, it's just not  _nice-_ nice."

"Oh yeah?" Jane barely managed to keep her voice from cracking. "How so?"

"Well," Maura said, taking a breath that made Jane temporarily unable to breathe. "I know you're not wearing pants  _or_  shoes, and I suspect you're wearing a tank top you got in a package of three at Target-"

"Actually I got this one by itself, at Macy's." Jane cut in. "From the _women's section_ , I'll have you know."

"I'll make sure to put another gold star on your chart."

"I think I like you in the middle of the night," Jane said before realizing what that sounded like.

"I like you any time, Detective Rizzoli," Maura replied, and Jane could see exactly the way her mouth was shaping the words, which made her feel a little lightheaded even though she was lying down.

"Jane?"

"Uh, yeah," Jane muttered, twisting around slightly in her bed.

"I don't hear you getting out of bed."

"Yeah," Jane admitted. "I like talking to you. Listening to you."

"Mm-hmm," Maura murmured in a way Jane couldn't exactly parse. The little exhalation sent tiny ripples through her body, raising goosebumps on her arms. "I see. What would you like me to talk about?"

"Um . . ."

"Perhaps tomorrow's weather forecast?"

"Maura!"

"Perhaps you'd like me to talk about what we'll do when you get here? Because I'm fairly confident I'll be seeing you before the sun comes up."

Jane flushed what she was sure was bright crimson. "And what makes you so confident?" she mumbled.

"Well," Maura's voice was flirtatious, throaty, all traces of sleepiness gone. "I'm not wearing anything, for a start."

"That's a pretty good start."

"And I'm here, alone in my bed, which as you know is quite large, which can make being alone in it feel a little . . ."

"A little . . ."

"Lonely, I guess. So you can understand why I'd be pleased you were thinking of coming over to keep me company."

"Totally understandable," Jane whispered.

"Since you need to be wearing pants to drive, generally—legally of course, not due to the mechanics of operating a motor vehicle-"

"Maura."

"I'll of course need to take those pants off as soon as you arrive."

"Of course."

"I'll probably kiss you while I'm doing it, which might make things a little difficult to manage, but I can be very graceful while completing challenging tasks."

"I know." Jane's breath was getting a little shallow, her heart rate a little faster. "You're very good with your hands, Dr. Isles."

"Then I'll take off your shirt, being careful to conduct a thorough examination of your body in order to determine your most sensitive areas."

"I think you've got a pretty good idea of my sensitive areas," Jane stammered.

"I like to keep my skill set fresh."

"Uh-huh, good point."

Jane held her breath to hear Maura's, which, the sudden heat flushing through her body told her, was slightly more labored with every passing moment. She imagined Maura in bed, finely-woven sheets draped demurely over her finely-formed body, the way Maura would be wriggling slightly as she described to Jane in exacting detail the methods she would employ in order to make the trip across town worthwhile.

"Jane," she gasped after a particularly vivid description involving the sensation of Jane's legs moving across Maura's back, "while I am quite enjoying this conversation, I feel like we've established that should one of us be out of town there will be ways to pass the time."

Jane was too busy looking for her keys to offer anything but a weak "uh-huh."

"I hope I've convinced you to come over here, I mean," Maura said, her voice liquid.

"I just need to find my damn keys," Jane replied, trying to keep the mounting panic out of her voice.

"On the counter, next to the fruit basket. And I hope you've thrown away those old bananas."

Jane punched the air in silent victory when she spotted the keyring, half-hidden behind a wilted, black-splotched banana. "Yes," she said, dumping the contents of the basket into the garbage and not even trying to pretend to be exasperated. "I did. And how did you know my keys were there? Did you put cameras in my house?"

"Oh,  _that's_  an idea," Maura purred. Jane steadied herself on the kitchen counter, her knees turning to jelly. "You always put your keys there when you're tired, and those bananas were starting to turn a week ago. Now get in your car and come over here, I wasn't joking when I said I was getting a little chilly."

"So you need me to warm you up, then."

"That seems most logical, don't you think? Oh, Jane?"

"Yeah?" Jane threw on her jacket and slipped out the door as quietly as possible so not to wake her neighbors, who she figured had a hard enough time living near her as it was.

"You never told me why it was you thought you couldn't sleep."

"Sure I did."

Jane could hear Maura's eyebrow raise.

"I wanted you next to me," she said finally, more embarrassed than she'd been all night, even when Maura had described the myriad places she was going to put her tongue.

Maura sighed happily, and Jane couldn't help the grin from spreading across her face. "I thought so," Maura said. "But you know how I hate to guess."

"I'm hanging up now." Jane fumbled the car key into the lock, and pulled the door open. "Illegal to drive and talk, you know."

"I'll be waiting," Maura whispered, her voice coated with honey. "I hope you hit all the green lights."

"I've got a BPD badge," Jane scoffed, "I'll be there in ten."


End file.
